Sayvensdee, the 27th of Harvest, 768 A.E.

  “Have you located Anthea yet?” Corydon asked of Captain Genero.

  Corydon sat behind a heavy desk of polished granite, grey and white with traces of pinkish amethyst marbling it. Piles of paperwork had been carefully sorted and arranged within an arm’s reach of the chair that sat behind the desk.

  Captain Genero stood on the other side of the desk, wearing his formal Guardian uniform of gold coloring with silver tracing to denote his rank and status. His hands were clasped behind him to keep them from fidgeting nervously. There was something disquieting about this man he now answered to instead of the Greater Helion, something that made him ill at ease whenever he was in Corydon’s presence.

  “The Farsight Outlooks tracked her as far as a small village, but lost sight of her after that.” Genero answered finally.

  “Lost? You aren’t trying to make ineptitude a habit are you, Captain? Didn’t you have this problem before when you were answering to the Greater Helion?”

  “With all due respect, sir, it’s been but a couple Dees; they fled on Fohrsdee. The Farsight Outlooks have very definite limitations.”

  “Then go down there after her.”

  “Sir?” Genero blinked in confusion. This man couldn’t possibly be suggesting that he go down there among the lowlanders. It was certain death without proper light.

  “Take a Flier, load it up with all the crystal spheres you’ll need, and track her down.”

  “Even crystal spheres have their limitations, and the Flier won’t work for very long at night. Its batteries are limited.”

  “Then you’ll have to land the Flier and camp a night or return with her before that.”

  “But who would I take? Guardians are not trained for night missions and time out of the light.” Genero protested. “I’m not trained for that.”

  Corydon, who had up until this point been fiddling with a stack of paperwork, turned to face Captain Genero fully. His eyes narrowed on the younger man, who withered beneath his gaze. “Trust in me, Genero. If you doubt me again, I will have you replaced. I would not send you into any situation without support. I want the girl back as much as the Greater Helion does, and we can’t very well do that if we’re not equipped to do so, can we?”

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  “Umm, no, sir. We cannot.”

  “Then understand that the men I send with you are not of the normal garden variety sort of Guardian. They are from a special team that I have been assembling in accordance with the wishes of the Greater Helion and the Voice of the Firmament.”

  Genero took pause here, noting that the two most important people in Cenalium had ties in this business. Rarely did the political leader of Cenalium and the religious leader of all Aureans see eye to eye, and that they were both on board in this endeavor was something of a surprise. Was it even true? It seemed doubtful, yet here Corydon was saying it was so, and he obviously had higher ties than a mere Guardian Captain.

  Despite previous warnings against curiosity, Genero found himself considering Anthea again. What was so special about her? Why would they want her so badly? Then his thoughts were drawn to Vitalis, who Corydon had tortured and then put out of the city. The man and his family might already be dead. Granted, letting Anthea go had been a crime, but his family should not have suffered for his mistakes. And what of the pair of Ox-Men who had been executed as an example to their kind in Cenalium?

  If they’re willing to go that far, I have no choice but to follow along, Genero thought. I mustn’t allow my mistakes to bring harm upon my wife and child. Whatever Anthea represents, she cannot be more important than my family. I must do as they ask of me.

  “I understand.” Genero answered finally, nodding his head slightly.

  “Good.” Corydon replied, settling back into his chair once more. “Before you go after her, I need you to salvage what you can of the downed Flier and destroy the rest. It too important to leave laying around, and the savages are digging around the wreckage.”

  “What if there are some there when we arrive?”

  “Kill them.”

  Despite his misgivings, Genero nodded. “Understood.”

  “After you’ve cleaned up that mess, head to the small village. Question anyone who might know anything. Don’t leave until you know everything about what Anthea did there, who she talked with, where she went, and who she went with.” Corydon continued.

  “They may not cooperate, sir.”

  “Make them. Burn the whole village and kill them all if you must. Do not make the mistake of underestimating the importance of our mission.”

  “I won’t, sir.”

  “Good, because it’s more than just our heads if the Greater Helion isn’t pleased with what we do. Our families will die too, Genero. Don’t ever forget that. This is more serious than anything you’ve ever done.”

  “I won’t fail you, sir, or the Greater Helion.” Genero said, mustering more confidence in his voice than he felt inside. Inside he wanted to run and hide – not a noble or brave thing to do, but that is what he felt.

  “I expect you won’t.” Corydon extended to Captain Genero a set of sealed orders, rolled in official parchment and sealed with Corydon’s own seal. “This is a copy of your orders, as well as a requisition for unlimited use of a Flier, a rather impressive stash of crystal spheres, and the use of my team of ‘elite’ Guardians.”

  “I see.”

  “Good, now leave and get started right away. You leave within the Ouer.”

  Genero nodded, executed a stiff bow, and hurried out, wondering once again what he’d gotten himself into.

  In his office, Corydon smiled smugly. Things were going according to plan, and he’d get a chance to test out his force earlier than expected. Laughing quietly to himself, he dimmed the lights in his office.